


Why Do Fools Fall in Ditches?

by Ruruu137



Series: Rue's Contribution for Molly Hooper Appreciation Week (Winter 2018) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Molly Hooper Appreciation Week, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-TFP, day 1: why do fools fall in ...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruruu137/pseuds/Ruruu137
Summary: Molly thinks back to the phone call and re-evaluates her relationship with Sherlock.





	Why Do Fools Fall in Ditches?

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally wanted to contribute to this Tumblr post, but then I realized the time period for this is the same as my vacation week. Since I could not bring my laptop along, I just write down my ideas on how the story goes in my notebook and type it on my phone once I get internet access. But alas, my phone is quite small even for my already small fingers, and I struggled to complete them on time. But I'll just post this on my AO3 account as usual, as I mentioned in my post on Tumblr.
> 
> Since this is my first time contributing to the Sherlock fandom, I think you may find some inconsistencies or errors in my stories. I would like to apologize beforehand and if there's any room for improvements, let me know in the comments. Any comments or kudos are widely appreciated.

* * *

 

_Why do fools fall in ditches?_

 

_Not literal ditches, anyway_ , Molly grumbles. She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck as cold wind blows to her face. She sniffles before she picks up the speed of her steps. She could’ve just said ‘ _why do fools fall in love_ ’ like people usually say it. But she prefers the term ‘ _ditches_ ’ rather than ‘ _love_ ’.

 

Her father had always referred to everything in his life as “falling into ditches”. His brief career as a sports journalist was taken down the drain, as he called it then, when a new and more charismatic reporter showed up to work one day. When Molly’s mum left him and Molly for another man (a decision that still angers Molly to this day), he said his life had “fallen into a ditch”. Molly slowly began to pick up this habit of his shortly after his death. She had quoted her father when she said that her “life had fallen into a ditch” at his funeral.

 

To Molly now, her unrequited love for Sherlock is also like falling into a ditch filled with water, especially when it rains. The water flows quickly in the ditch; anything that falls into it will be carried away by the swift current. Molly has seen it happen in front of her eyes: a schoolmate of hers was bragging about a necklace she has received from a boyfriend when she tripped as she was about to head back into class as recess time was over. It was raining back then, but not very heavily. Yet, the ditch next to the playground where she and the rest of her friends were hanging out had rainwater mixed with a little bit of mud from the construction site a few kilometres away from their school. Molly saw the necklace flew right out of the girl’s hand and landed into the ditch. Molly could only watch helplessly as the girl tried to chase the currents while begging and crying (to God knows who) to get her necklace back.

 

_Back to the topic_ , Molly thought as her lips curved into a small smile as she realizes her mind has wondered so far away. Molly uses the ditch as some sort of a metaphor for her current relationship with Sherlock. The love and admiration she had for Sherlock was always there, even when he almost overdosed over a case (Molly is still not sure whether that part is true or not). She always feels her face heating up every time she sees him, including the time when she was dating Jim, when he spouted out his deductions based on her appearance and her gifts during the Christmas party, when he asked her for help into faking his death, when he congratulated her engagement to Tom (and also when he pointed out that she and Tom were no longer a thing), during Rosie’s christening, when she relayed John’s message after Mary’s death, when she discovered the large dose of drugs in his body before meeting Culverton Smith,…

 

Molly stops her train of thoughts. All those moments, all those memories,…

 

And yet, he toyed with her feelings. Those feelings were immediately washed away thanks to his words. His so-called _experiment_.

 

She knows that he knows of her feelings towards him. She knows that he used her infatuation to him as a way to get to the dead bodies. She knows how she must’ve felt when he kissed her cheek after congratulating her engagement.

 

But why did he have to make her say it?

 

Why?

 

“ _An experiment_ ,” he had said.

 

“ _I’m not an experiment, Sherlock._ ” She wanted him to see. She wanted him to understand that above all else, she’s still human.

 

“ _I know you’re not an experiment. You’re my friend. We’re friends, but…please. Just say these words for me._ ”

 

Molly had to take a few deep breaths as he said that. _Of course we’re friends_ , she thought bitterly then. For a brief moment then she thought that she was wrong into thinking that he knew of her feelings towards him. And she also thought that he sounded so desperate then. _For what?_

 

She considered for a split second then that she wanted to make him feel humiliated (if he is capable of feeling as such). She wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine. She told him to say those words first. “ _Say it like you mean it._ ” She had never thought he would’ve said it. _But he did._

 

When he said it…she closed her eyes as she locked the memory of his voice saying those words into her mind. At first, Molly felt like he was forced to say it. She only wanted to hear him say it once, but he said it again.

 

“ _I love you._ ”

 

She froze for a moment and she looked at her phone. _Why oh why does he have to sound so sincere?_

 

She took a deep breath and… _replied_ to him. “ _I love you,_ ” she had said, her voice barely above a whisper. She thought she heard Sherlock sigh in relief before the call was disconnected. She stood there, in her kitchen, staring blankly right in front of her with tears streaming down her face as his voice repeatedly said “I love you” to her over and over again. She did not bring her phone down from her ear for five solid minutes after the phone call ended. She was brought out of her reverie when she felt Toby rubbing his body against her leg, asking for food.

 

_An experiment…You’re my friend…It’s very important…If it’s true, just say it anyway…_

 

_I love you._

 

Molly had not seen Sherlock since then. He did not try to break into her apartment anymore, like he used to do when he tried to escape from something or when he just needed someone to hear about his powerful deduction skills. When he entered the morgue with John and Greg in tow, about two months since the phone call, she acted professionally (that is, trying not to break down at the sight of him) and answered their questions briefly but accurately.

 

During the second visit at the morgue following the phone call, John pulled her aside on the pretence of asking for her schedule so she could babysit Rosie. Sherlock chose that moment to leave the lab, citing “an appointment with Mycroft” as an excuse.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked her. Molly could only reply with a brief “Yes” while avoiding his eyes.

 

John sighed. “Look, I know it’s difficult…” John did not have the chance to continue when the petri dish Molly was holding dropped to the ground and a loud clanging was heard throughout the lab, and Greg was on the phone, updating the recent addition of clues from the murder victim to his team of detectives, turned around in surprise and worry.

 

“Molly?” John asked warily. She slowly looked up and stared angrily at him. “You knew?” she asked quietly, but John could definitely detect the hint of anger in her voice.

 

He gulped before he nodded once.

 

Molly refused to say anything. She was seething. Since then, she refused to assist Sherlock and John. Even the thought of seeing them made her feel humiliated. Whenever Greg called her to conduct the post mortem on any murder victims’ bodies, she politely declines the offer and instead ask Greg to refer to another pathologist.

 

Today, it has been nearly six months since the phone call. During the third month, there were many calls left unanswered from many different people asking Molly to listen to Sherlock. John was the most frequent caller. He asked her if she could drop by at Baker Street so that she could talk with Sherlock. When she ignored it, John called again, asking if she would allow Sherlock to talk to her, to listen to his side of the story. She also ignored it.

 

Greg awkwardly asked her to understand what Sherlock had gone through, and he “definitely needed some to be at his side. Someone other than John and Mycroft.”

 

Hell, even Mycroft called her. Instead of pleading with her like the other two men, Mycroft simply ask her to keep an eye out for Sherlock. “Revelations were made, secrets were unearthed, Miss Hooper. I simply would like for you to hear him.”

 

Molly only heard briefly on what had happened. Something about a secret sister who apparently had met Jim before his death. It all sounds so absurd, and Molly almost ignores the small part in her that tells her to go to Sherlock.

 

_Almost._

 

When she turned right to Baker Street, she saw the construction of a new fence for the nearest park. She sees the ditch the team had made to make sure no mud water would flow onto the street. It is when she sees the ditch that she thought of her feelings, her thoughts, her memories…with Sherlock.

 

She gingerly knocks the door and Mrs Hudson answers it almost immediately. The older woman’s face brightens up when she sees Molly.

 

“Is Sherlock here?” Molly asked.

 

Mrs Hudson wastes no time ushering her into the infamous room.

 

* * *

 


End file.
